


Kinktober 2020

by TheTrashcanOfWritting



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Multi, Smut, Temperature Play, temperature magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrashcanOfWritting/pseuds/TheTrashcanOfWritting
Summary: I'm not very experienced writing smut, so why not start now. I also don't have a ton of time to edit so I'm sorry.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Kinktober 2020

Rhys swallows as Feyre closes the bathroom door. He passes a few times as he remembers her instructions. 10 minutes, he had 10 minutes to prepare before they started. He starts grabs the few toys they had agreed on and sets them up on the nightstand.

Now it's time to prepare himself. He sheds his clothes. Her second request echoes in his bones. W _ings out_ it was him who had suggested this. He who had wanted to try it, to see what her magic could do to him and the anticipation was eating him alive. 

He positions himself just as she had requested. On his back with his wings spread, and his face stuffed into the pillow. Hands secured to the restraints on the bed frame. He counts his breaths as he waits, helpless, and he loves it. 

The sound of the door opening sends goosebumps rising over his flesh. He's shocked to hear the click of heels as she approaches the bed. He wishes he could look, cauldron he loves how she looks in heals, but he knows the game they play too well, and looking now would just make things worse later, so he resists. 

"Are you ready for me?" She purrs, running a cold hand down his spine. His wings snap in at the cold. 

"Yes Darling," She shakes out. 

He's rewarded by a much warmer stroke, which has his wings flaring back out. 

"Good." She keeps moving her hand closer and closer to the base of his wings but stopping before ever touching them.   
Her second hand, which is once again cold as ice reaches out and strokes over a vein in his left-wing. He groans as he feels his cock spring to life.

Fuck. 

She moves her warm hand over the spot, which sends another wave of pleasure through his body, stronger than anything he's felt before. 

He doesn't even notice her other hand until she's tying the blindfold across his face. 

"How about we play a little game you and I?" She asks as she runs a hand through his hair. "Winner gets to cum." His body shivers in response. 

"Depends, Darling, are you going to let me win?" 

"The rules are simple," She says, ignoring his question. "I get to play with your wings as much as I want for 5 minutes, and you have to try not to make a sound." He loses focus as her hands graze his right-wing. Fuck. There's no way he is going to win, but he can't resist the idea of those hands-on his wings. 

"You're on Darling." 

"Excellent." He hears her grab the hourglass he had set on the table. "Your time starts, now."

He bites down on his lip as Feyre's hands return to his wings. He struggles as she uses her magic to freeze and warm him. His world becomes those flashes of pleasure, flashes of heat and cool and wonderful pleasure as Feyre's words repeat on loop. "Don't make a sound, don't make a sound." He bites his lip so hard it hurts his jaw, which is a welcome distraction as Feyre's hands move faster across the sensitive skin of his wings. 

It's not until she warms one hand and cools the other and traces the entirety of each wing in one motion before a moan, or her name Rhys can't tell, escapes his lips. By the time the hourglass finishes he's twisting against his restraints, closer than he's ever been before when her hands leave his body. 

"Uh oh, you made a noise," Feyre says, standing in front of him and taking off his blindfold. As Rhys's eyes adjust to the light he sees Feyre for the first time. She's wearing a new, sheer red corset with her beautiful breasts poking over it. With matching heals that make her legs look like they go one forever. 

Rhys cries out as the sight overwhelms him. He just wants to touch her, to taste her, and most of all, he wants her to touch him. She tuts at him. "Look at you, that close already." He wiggles against his restraints. She reaches over him and runs a cold finger down the delicate skin of his wings, soothing the cold with her heat. 

"Feyre" He pleads. "please," He doesn't even know what he's begging for, just that he needs more. She runs another finger down. 

"We're going to flip you over," She commands. "Then I want to play another game, maybe this time you can win. She removes his arms from their restraints and he rolls onto his back, careful of his wings. 

"But for now, I believe I have a prize to reclaim." He knows exactly what's coming as she straddles his face. Cauldron the scent of her makes him harder than he ever thought possible. He tastes her slowly at first, but when she sends a shiver of cold down his body he speeds up. He can feel the room warm the more he tastes her, flicking her bundle of nerves until he feels the room explode with heat, and she lets out a cry of ecstasy above him. 

"Now Rhys," She says, removing her entrance from his face. "Are you ready for our next game?" A shiver of excitement rolls over him. "This one should be easy, all you have to do is count, do you think you can do that?" She asks, moving down towards his cock. 

"Once you get to 30, you can cum, but if you mess up, you have to start over." She straddles him and his cock twitches in anticipation. She teases him with her entrance, the warm juices are enough to make him moan. 

She sinks down into him, and he already has to bite his lip as she starts to bounce around him. 

"One," He rasps, and is shocked when the warmth of her is replaced with an icy cold shock of pleasure and pain. "two" he gasps, and the warmth returns. "three," cold, "four," warm. She bounces in time with his counting and by ten he's so enveloped by pleasure every thought leaves his head. 

"Start over," Feyre commands, her voice breathy like this was just as hard for her as it was for him. 

And he did, trying to remember to count as the edge grows nearer, and the tide of warmth and cool threatens to drown him with every bounce of Feyre over him. 

"29, 30" He cries and his orgasm shatters him. He hears Feyre scream too as he falls over the cliff. His whole body shakes with the force of it as his world turns upside down around him. 

After what feels like forever he finally comes down, and Feyre slowly peels herself off of him and makes her way back to the bathroom. He hears the water start running. 

After a moment she returns wearing one of his old shirts and has a glass of water in her hands. 

"How are you feeling?" She asks as she hands him the water, gone is the authoritarian tone of his mate and equal, and here is his wife, who saw him through the darkness. 

"I'm doing alright, tired, but alright." He responds honestly, taking the water from her. 

"How was that for you?" She asks hesitantly. 

"Feyre, that was perfect." She beams at him. 

"I drew you a bath, would you like to be alone or..." Her voice trails off. 

"I'd like you to join me," 


End file.
